


Desert Visions

by NoOrdinarySouthernGirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Afghanistan statistics, Captain John Watson, Cheating, He misses it, I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, Infidelity, John returns to war, Johnlock - Freeform, Jolto, M/M, Military John, Military references, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent!lock, Slow Build, army John, just stick with me I promise it'll all be worth it, pre-s4, yeah you should have figured that out already
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl/pseuds/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft was right. John missed the war. Would his new relationship with Sherlock survive his going back? Would he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this in my notebook and completely forgot I had it, but the moment I started typing it up, it all came flooding back. I hope you like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I didn't exactly like the route this story was taking so I did some tweaking to the first two chapters. Those of you who started this recently or when I first publish will definitely notice the difference. If not, then never mind and proceed :)

“John?”

 

Coming out of his mind palace, Sherlock swore he had heard John on the stairs. Getting up from his chair, he quickly crossed the room, Rosie in his arms, and opened the door to the landing. He had been correct. There stood John, frozen on the staircase holding a letter and a look of shock on his face.

 

“You’re late.” Taking in the full picture of his blogger, Sherlock stopped himself, hiking the little girl higher on his hip, and asked, “John, what’s the matter?”

 

Instead of answering immediately, John continued up the stairs and into the flat. Sherlock could sense something was off because the doctor didn’t stop to remove his jacket or kiss his daughter before going into the kitchen to make tea. _Ah, tea. Makes everything better._  

 

Automatically making a second cup of tea and a sippy cup, John brought them into the sitting room where he placed both cups beside their respective chairs, the sippy cup next to the brunet’s as he was still holding the toddler. “Sherlock, please sit down.”

 

The fact that Sherlock was unable to read John in this situation put his senses on edge. He didn’t like not being able to deduce what doctor was thinking. Ever since Mary had been killed and John, with Rosie, subsequently moving back in with Sherlock, they had been nothing but open with each other.

 

It had been nearly a year now and it seemed that their life had settled into a comfortable relationship. Not many knew about the change in dynamic, but that’s how they liked it.

 

“John, what was – “

 

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.” John cut him off.

 

Eyes going wide, Sherlock asked, “Whatever for?”

 

Handing him the letter from earlier, the detective adjusted the little girl in his arms to his lap comfortably and soon realized why John had stood frozen on the stairs for so long.

_Doctor John H. Watson,_

 

_Upon receiving a full bill of health from Dr. Sawyer and mental health evaluation from Dr. Thompson, the RAMC would like to offer you a reinstatement into the 5_ _th_ _Northumberland Fusiliers to continue with your former unit. We would also like to extend a promotion to Major. As you will be taking the position of head surgeon, we expect to see you report to the airfield on 18 March for deployment. Good luck and safe travels. You will be fully briefed upon your arrival in Afghanistan._

 

_Congratulations and welcome back,_

_General Pike, CLF_

Sherlock reread the letter several times. This couldn’t be happening. He had just gotten John back. Rosie should be their main priority. He had to call Mycroft.

 

John speaking brought him out of his chaotic thoughts, “There’s nothing Mycroft can do. This isn’t his division… and I’m not entirely sure I _don’t_ want to go back.”

 

Sherlock couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They was going to lose this man, the man he loved for so long and from afar, to the military again and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Even fatherhood couldn’t seem to hold him back.

 

“Do you _want_ to go back?” All the while his brain was running through several scenarios to keep the doctor home and not off in the desert. At Rosie’s frustrated wiggles in his lap, he set the toddler on the ground to run free; it was best she wasn’t in the middle.

 

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Look, Sherlock, this isn’t something I have a choice in. They’re calling me back into the army. All this publicity must have drawn their attention. I’m needed there.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, Sherlock or himself.

 

“But you’re needed here!” In a rare display of true emotion, Sherlock jumped up from his chair and started pacing around the sitting room of the flat, making sure to weave around the toddler’s attempts mimicking him. John could hear him muttering under his breath as the detective put his hand on his head and into those curls that the doctor loved so much. He could almost see the stress pouring off of Sherlock as he started pulling on his own hair.

 

John quickly stood up. He scooped up the little girl placing her in the nearby cot, he popped a dummy in her mouth and pulled the taller man down on the sofa with him. Prying Sherlock’s hands out of his hair, he placed the dark head of curls on his chest and soothingly stroked it. He needed Sherlock to calm down before he actually hurt himself or scared Rosie. When John had returned to Baker Street, he noticed Sherlock had been more open with himself around John and allowed his emotions to be set free when it was just the three of them. Holding Sherlock like this as they cuddled on the couch seemed to work the fastest in calming the detective when he saw a panic attack developing behind those clear blue eyes. All he wanted to do was hold his two favorite people and never leave the flat again.

  



	2. Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's been a year and a half since I picked up this story. I had a bit of a hard time over the last two years and I feel like I'm finally in a place to continue writing all of my WIPs. Thank you to those who are still with me!

**** John hadn’t expected Sherlock to show so much emotion when it came time for him to leave for the airport. He refused to accompany the soldier, but instead decided to stay at the flat with Rosie  where he could sulk in peace.

The look on Sherlock’s face as John came out of their shared bedroom, dressed in his uniform and carrying his pack, nearly broke his heart to see. As much as the detective tried to mask his face, hiding behind the toddler, John had known him long enough to see through it and could tell that this situation was hurting his little family as much as himself.

Not caring that he would wrinkle his freshly pressed fatigues, John pulled Sherlock and Rosie into his lap as he sat in his chair one last time. John had made a decision when agreeing to return to the army. After speaking to his commanding officer, he negotiated only a 6 month tour in hopes of getting his head on straight. When that was over, he would be done for good. They could keep him in if they liked, to help train at St Bart's, but no more tours. He needed to be in London for Sherlock and his daughter. London and Baker Street were home.

The detective had buried his head into his blogger’s neck, cuddling the toddler close, in an effort to get as close as possible. Nudging his shoulder, John wanted to look Sherlock in the face when he told him the news. 

“Sherlock, love, look at me. I spoke to the colonel last week and they agreed to my terms. I’m going for a short tour, only 6 months. I just need to get my head on straight after everything with Mary, this little one.”  _ And you _ , but he left that part unspoken. He stroked her blonde curls, the soldier didn’t need to start anything before he left.

Mrs. Hudson had already said her goodbyes, promising to looking occasionally, and had taken off to spend the weekend with her sister so the three could have alone time in the flat. Greg had volunteered to take John to the airport so he wouldn’t have to waste the money on a cab.

The doorbell rang downstairs pulling the two men out of their little moment. With one final, heated kiss, Sherlock climbed out of John’s lap and walked to the window with Rosie. He could see Lestrade downstairs waiting for John. Rosie waved to her uncle who waved back.

“Goodbye, John.” It seemed that Sherlock wasn’t going to turn around. At least the final view he had of his loves for 6 months was of their silhouettes in the window.

For a moment John was behind Sherlock, slipping something around his neck as he kissed the taller man’s shoulder and the small head of his daughter.

“Not goodbye. I’ll see you later, yeah?” He could see the detective turn his head slightly to the side and nod once.

Closing the door, he carried his duffel out of the flat and into the boot of Greg’s car. The DI could see that this was killing John to leave the other two behind.

“Watch them, will ya?”

“Of course, John. Maybe we’ll have a nice, juicy serial killer to keep him occupied while you’re gone,” Lestrade joked. “Maybe even a case for little Rosie to cut her teeth on.”

Earning a chuckle from the shorter man, the DI put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed before putting it back on the wheel.

“Well, John, good luck. Don’t worry, everything will be fine. You’ve got Mycroft, Molly, Mrs. H, and me all here to look after those two. Go and do some soldier-y stuff.”

A small smile formed on the soldier’s face as their arrived at departures, “Thank you, seriously. See you in 6 month.”

With a final hug and wave, John was through to security and hustling to his plane.

Watching London disappear under him, he started to think about what would be waiting for him in the Afghan desert.    
  



	3. The Past

Back in the flat, Sherlock stood at the window with Rosie still in his arms until he could see the DI’s car turn the corner and John was gone. The feeling of cool metal around his neck, and a heaviness against his chest that the little girl was trying to reach for, brought him back to reality as he looked down to see what John had given him.

Maj. John H. Watson, RAMC

John’s spare set of dog tags. Sherlock immediately felt guilt because for a single moment he was glad John was gone, if only so he couldn’t see the tears beginning to overflow.

The thought of taking solace in his violin flitted through his mind until he remembered that he no longer had anyone to play for, and wouldn’t for six months. A sixteen month old couldn’t quite appreciate the stringed instrument as his John could.

Sherlock never considered himself sentimental, but as with all things surrounding John, things were changing. Too many to halt whether he wanted to or not. Closing the curtains, the detective turned on his heel and quickly made his way into their shared bedroom with their little girl, now only his bedroom again. The room was still dark with its own curtains still shut, they crawled into the large bed, using John’s pillow he wrapped them in the doctor’s favorite duvet, and Sherlock head in the scent of his soldier.

He wouldn’t cry. He was William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Caring is not an advantage and it seemed it never would be.

* * *

 

16 hour flight. Camp Shorabak. Kandahar, Afghanistan.

Camp Shorabak, or Camp Bastion, was it was named when John was second deployed, was still one of the largest British Military bases in Afghanistan judging by the number of personnel milling about in the god awful heat. He’d flown for a nice, rainy 14C into a harsh, dry 31C. After checking in his current commanding officer, Colonel Pine, and collecting what he needed from the supplier officer, John made his way to his own personal tent. A tent he’d earned with his new rank of Major.

Not two seconds after setting his duffel down on his footlocker he was suddenly thrust forward face first on his cot with two heavy bodies on top of him.

"Well if it isn't old Three Continents." John recognized the first voice as Jamie Jones, an infantryman he'd dug plenty of bullets out of.

"Now now, sergeant, haven't you heard? Major Watson here is a family man with a little girl and a gorgeous husband." And that was definitely the voice of his former - current - head nurse, Bill Murray.

Executing a perfect push up, John rolled the two men off of him and onto the floor of the tent. Crawling up into a sitting position, the major stared down at his subordinates for a moment before all three burst into giggles like little school boys pulling him into a big hug.

Bill slapped John on the back, "So how does it feel to be back, Major?"

John sighed, "Only been here a couple of hours, ask me again tomorrow."

"So how's -" An alarm and the sounds of heavy booted feet running outside the tent cut off Jamie's sentence.

Inclining his head towards the opening, John glanced over at Bill, "Looks like that's our cue. Sorry Jones, later?"  
The sergeant nodded in return, waving the two off as he headed towards his own bunk in the barracks for a nap. A smile sat on the soldier's face as he caught Watson and Murray's continuous banter across the yard, "... Bill! We're not even married! I am NOT gonna do that!"

  
Another 14 hours later.

  
John pulled off his scrubs, dumping them in a laundry bin as he headed towards a sink to wash his face. He hadn't been in surgery that long in probably five years, his last deployment. Rubbing his neck to work the stiff muscles into responding, he jumped when someone stepped into the room behind him.

"Fourteen hours to much for you now, Captain? Guess we need to start you off easier."  
Turning, John felt his first genuine smile in two weeks spread as he faced his longtime friend, "It's major now."

Watson pulled Sholto into a tight hug that seemed to last longer than was strictly appropriate. Pulling back, he held James at arms length searching for his new rank, "Let me guess, lieutenant colonel now?"

The taller man shook his head in the negative, "No, still a major. I'm only here to instruct and supervise. No field work."

They were silent a moment, the empty room suddenly this with tension. Before he could really register his own actions, John pulled the other man down into a heated kiss reminiscent of that day years ago when John had left for that patrol that ended his career - or so he thought.

If he could get one life back, maybe he could get the other as well... but could he keep them separate?


	4. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if you're thinking about Backstreet Boys' "The Call"... then you'd be correct!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6azzNTr6xE

Both soldiers fought for dominance, tongues and teeth clashing with no rhythm. Sholto let out a soft moan that slammed reality back around the pair, John jerking away as if he'd been burnt. The doctor refused to look the other major in the eye as he slipped around the other side of a bench to put space between them. John bent over, hands on his knees attempting to prevent a quickly building panic attack.

"Watson?" James seemed to have returned to his senses in that moment.

"No. No. No." John dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as he shook his head side to side roughly, his breathing became more ragged.

Sholto tentatively reached a pale hand out to the shorter man. All he received in return was a look of shock and guilt that flashed through the doctor's face before he sprinted away from his former CO. 

John fled back to his tent, nearly arriving uninterrupted, Bill stepping out of the bunkhouse eyed the doctor curious as to what had gotten his knickers in a twist in the small amount of time it had been since surgery ended. He tried to call out, "Hey John, there's -"

"Not now, Murray." His face red, hands shaking as he pushed his way into the tent.

Bill stood slightly baffled at John's behavior. Even after many hours of surgery, he'd never seen John snap at anyone in that manner. The nurse cautiously stepped up to the major's tent before knocking just to be safe. "John -"

"What, Bill?"

"Jesus, son, slow your ass down." At John's glare he continued quickly, "You've got a video chat coming through in about five minutes, marked extreme priority." Bill performed an excellent about-face, stopping at the door as his old mate spoke up.

"Bill, wait. I'm sorry I snapped at you." The doctor met him at the door. The two stood toe to toe, Bill then clapping John on the shoulder and giving him a sly smile that showed instant forgiveness. The two men were friends and had been to hell and back with each other.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted - twice - get your ass over to the bunk house. I'm betting it's the little man back home and our Princess Rosie." Bill chuckled at his own joke, belatedly noticing John's trepidation. Murray tried to read the doctor's face, but John raised a mask of 'happiness' before thanking the nurse, letting him out to escape the awkward situation he'd found himself in.

After Bill left, John took a moment to compose himself because he was damn sure anyone could read him at that point in time. The officer squared his shoulders and with feigned calmness made his way towards the tech room in the barracks. His breathing picked up again as he crossed the rec room causing him to snag a private's shot of whiskey. 

The young man made to stand up to him until another private grabbed his arm mid-rise, nodding to the majors stripes on the blond's uniform. The group returned to their card game.

All of this went unnoticed by John who logged in his time on the sheet outside the door, slight tremor in his left hand as he held the pen. The shot seemed to have calmed his nerves and mind enough to be ready for his video call. Within moments of him sitting down in the rolling office chair, the computer lit up with the faces of Sherlock with a pudgy, giggling Rosie in his arms. Judging by the bookshelf in the background they were sitting in the brunet's seat at their shared desk.

"Can you hear me?" The voice coming through the speakers was surprisingly unsteady, Sherlock never the one to fully let his mask of indifference slip.

"Dada!" The little voice screamed through the monitor giving him something else to focus on than the dark rainbow eyes full of sadness staring back at him. 

"Hello my darling, have you been driving Sherlock round the bend yet?" John tried to allow a genuine smile to shine through the fa ç ade he knew he would have trouble upholding.

"No," Sherlock huffed. "Well, not quite yet." He was bouncing the toddler on his knees causing her blonde curls to spring to and fro.  

The two were silent for a long moment just staring through the screen: Sherlock at John, John at Rosie, Rosie at Sherlock's slobbered on purple tie. Sherlock broke the silence first, a crack in his voice barely audible, "So how is our Major Watson doing in his first thirty hours away from Baker Street and his family?"

John felt himself wince at the sting the consulting detective's words brought, whether intentionally or not. He rubbed his eyes, trying to buy himself time to think of something. "Uh yeah. A bit exhausted, but exhilarated. Spent fourteen hours in surgery as soon as I arrived."

Sherlock nodded at these words because if anyone could understand the doctor's adrenaline junkie ways it was definitely him. The pause seemed to stretch, Sherlock's eyes searching John's with over 7,000km between them. A crackling over the speakers alerted them to a signal malfunction. The image of the two he'd left behind had frozen on the screen.

"John?"

"Sherlock, what happened?"

A very Holmes-esque snort could be heard next. "Stupid government signals. What's the point in using Mycroft's access codes when the signal drops out all of the time?"

John let out a small chuckle, "You stole Mycroft's access codes just so you could call me? Sherlock, dear, I haven't even been away 48 hours."

Silence on the other end made John think the signal had finally died out when he heard Rosie's little squeal of laughter and what sounded like a dummy being shoved into her open mouth. "We missed you." The words were low, almost imperceptible, but John had heard them.

He was sweating even in the cool air conditioner of the tech room, and it wasn't from the Afghan heat. He needed to get some air. "Hey Sherlock, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I'm needed back in the med tent."

"Oh, ok."

The soldier sighed at himself, "But listen, I miss you both so much. I'll skype when I can and time will pass quickly. I promise."

"Yes, John. Say 'goodbye' to your father, Rosie."

"Bye bye, dada." He was picturing her blue eyes wide as she waved her little hand at his still image.   
When the video cut John threw himself out of the chair, sending it across the room banging into the opposite wall with a thump. The major stormed through the barracks, ignored the questioning glances and words of those still in the rec room, to his own tent to change and hit the gym as hard as he could until he forgot his stupidity or passed out from exhaustion.


	5. Pump Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to throw out a quickie for those of you still with me. Stick around and I'll have another chapter up soon!

John spent two and a half hours in the base's expansive gym trying to unwind his mind. With each rep his thoughts would bounce between the last five years with Sherlock, and now Rosie, to the previous two deployments he'd spent in Afghanistan. The doctor had been nearing the end of his second deployment when he was injured. John was never able to say goodbye to James or end their relationship properly as Sholto was injured the next week on a patrol, but by that time John was already on his was home to England.

When he finally sat up, he wasn't surprised to see James standing in the doorway to the weight room, dry towels in hand. At the cocked eyebrow and sly grin from the taller man, John nodded once and Sholto retreated into the locker room like a man on a mission, the sounds of a shower kicking on. John stood and stretched to release his already sore muscles and sauntered after the other officer, wiping sweat away from his face. Only two days into his return and the two majors had picked up exactly where they left off as if James hadn't almost been murdered the year before and John had never invited the other man to his doomed wedding.


	6. Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still with me :)  
> Comments and kudos = love and motivation!

Two months was all the time that passed for Bill and Jamie to become suspicious of the majors. Not only had John been spending more time with Major Sholto and in the gym, but he’d only been to the tech room twice since his second day on base. The letters beside his bed were piling up… unopened. Some bulged with what could only be a toddler’s own coloring, but unlike other fathers at the camp, John hadn’t gotten around to opening his letters from home and displaying his little girl’s artwork proudly. This wasn’t the same John Watson they’d known for over a decade.

“Hey, Murray,” Sergeant Jones nudged his friend with his elbow while in the breakfast line at mess.

“What, Jones? It’s too early,” Bill groaned.

“You know Watson better than I do, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s married with a little girl, ain’t he?”

Bill narrowed his eyes, “Not actually married, but he _does_ have a partner and little Rosie.” The nurse’s expression became quizzical when Jones’ brow slipped farther into a deep frown. “Where are you going with this, Jamie?”

“Hold on, I just need to think this through for a moment.” Sergeant Jones glanced around the room briefly, eyes landing on Watson and Sholto huddled together alone at a table away from the others. “That’s Major Sholto?”

At Bill’s nod, he continued, “Since he’s only here instructing, isn’t his tent over by command?”

Again, Bill nodded. “And we know our dear Dr. Watson has his own tent near the hospital.”

“Okay, now you’re just spouting facts, get on with it!” Bill was too annoyed with this conversation before he’d even downed his first cup of coffee.

“Watson and Sholto showed up together.”

“Yeah, so? That’s happened a lot lately. They have a history.”

“Exactly.”

“Wha-oh shit.”

“Yup. And their tents are nowhere near each other. Not even a place to cross the other’s path in the morning. They don’t even had the same shift. I asked Caley in the admin building, she said-“

“Okay, Jamie, I got it! Geez, just lower your voice.” He intentionally lowered his volume at the last bit in an attempt to encourage the sergeant to do the same.

“So, what are we gonna do?”

“We? We aren’t going to do anything especially since right now we don’t even know what the hell is going on between those two.” Bill flailed a hand, gesturing wildly, “Hell, for all we know, those two are playing gin rummy and catching up on their lives, and just happen to run into each other every once in awhile outside the mess hall.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, “Sure, Bill. I’m not trying to start anything.” He held his hands up in defense. “He’s my friend too.” The sergeant sighed and looked over his shoulder where the two were still chatting close together. “It’s just that you’re around him more. Keep an eye on him, yeah?”

Bill stared at Jones for a spell before nodding in agreement. He turned his gaze back to the two officers, narrowing his eyes at the hand Sholto had placed on John’s forearm, thumb caressing the dark khakis visible even from across the room.

The nurse nodded once more, “Thank, Jamie.” The two soldiers went their separate ways, a single thought through both minds.

The two soon put the Watson/Sholto conundrum out of their head as action around base picked up. Jones out on patrols and Murray getting personal with the onsite hospital. Except fir the occasional quick chat as they passed, neither enlisted men had spotted the majors together outside of mess. Maybe they were just paranoid for their friend being back at war.

Jones caught up to Murray and Watson as they exited the hospital having just scrubbed out. “Okay you two old timers,” he steered them away from John’s tent and into the enlisted barracks.

Murray glared at Jamie briefly, “You do realize we’re exhausted after ten hours and four surgeries?”

The sergeant gave him a look of mock shock and hurt as he exclaimed, “But poker night!”

Bill just continued to stare until Major Watson clapped him on the back with a grin, sending him off balance momentarily, “Yeah, Murray, poker!”

He began pushing the nurse little by little towards the barracks’ door as they heard music blast and the raucous laughter of several other soldiers already enjoying a good time within.

Bill figured a few rounds of poker would be okay and a way to release stress after the week the hospital had been having. Well, that was until he saw Major Sholto sitting just to the left of the dealer and an open seat beside him.

As soon as the instructor raised a hand to signal John over, Murray shoved the doctor in retaliation from previously, yelling in a childish manner, “Last one there is an RAF pilot!” He made a beeline for the chair beside Sholto leaving John to take the last seat between Jones and a private.

The moment Bill had his butt parked in the metal folding chair he felt Major Sholto tense up for a second. Glancing toward the doctor he quickly realized why, John was giving James the sly eye and a wink. He quickly shifted his gaze to Jamie and nodded once, confirming that the infantryman was most likely correct in his observations. Bill signed, took a sip of his beer, and took the lousy hand he’d just been dealt.


End file.
